


Something New

by RinAngel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: And Taeyong's just a pretty boy uwu, Fluff, I was feeling self indulgent ok, M/M, Marriage, Romance, Short & Sweet, Suh Youngho | Johnny is the Best Boyfriend, Taeyong in a Wedding Dress, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28326297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAngel/pseuds/RinAngel
Summary: "Do you still have your wedding dress?”“Mm, yeah. It takes up a lot of space in the closet, but I haven’t exactly figured out what to do with it yet. Wouldn’t getting rid of it or selling it feel strange?”He finds himself smiling, and it has nothing to do with Johnny obliviously turning his back and displaying his bare ass in his direction. “Perfect. Noona, I have a huge favor to ask. How do you feel about— altering it?”(In which Taeyong has the fairy tale wedding he's always dreamed of, and gets to spend forever with the most charming of princes.)
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 7
Kudos: 96





	Something New

Taeyong had always had a soft spot for beauty, though he’d never exactly had the guts to voice it outright. He had strangely fond memories of himself as an elementary school student, being goaded with candy or spending money into letting his older sister practice her makeup on him (though if he were honest, he would have done it for free). She always used way too much of everything, bit he loved the process of primping and preening, and the opportunity to see himself at the end, looking so incredibly _different._

By the time Taeyong (in his opinion) came into his beauty, his worldview had shifted. Boys didn’t wear makeup— well, they did, but they didn’t let anyone _know_ that they did. BB cream and concealer in the morning, maybe after lunch he’d duck into the bathrooms at work for a fresh application of lip tint, the _tiniest_ dash of eyeshadow if he was feeling saucy. He might wear more if he and Johnny were going to a nightclub on the weekend— Johnny insisted that Taeyong looked beautiful in eyeliner, but Johnny was his boyfriend, he had to think Taeyong was beautiful no matter what.

"Men's fashion is boring," Taeyong says for the first time on the way home from their tuxedo fittings. Johnny had looked _dashing_ in his wedding day outfit, fitted flawlessly at his shoulders and waist. He’ll look even better on the day of their wedding, with his hair slicked back and his confident stride— and Taeyong, of course, will look like Johnny's less hot mini-me because tuxedos are the most _boring_ thing in the entire world. Taeyong isn’t all that _suited_ to formalwear. He likes men's fashion when it’s skinny jeans with ripped-up knees and oversized shirts with loud, colorful nonsense phrases, not suits and ties.

"Aw. You're cute in a tux." Johnny teases, reaching across the console to place a hand on Taeyong's knee and give it a squeeze. "Plus, remember what I told you? You don't need to wear a black suit, we can get you something that matches you better. Oh, how about a corsage? A flower for my little flower?"

 _"Jesus,_ Johnny." Taeyong cringes, not an unfamiliar sensation around the love of his life. But really— a corsage, that was a decent idea. A little breath of feminine certainly would make him more comfortable. “I’ll think about it, as long as you promise to never say anything to me like that ever again.”

It’s enough to get the thoughts in motion, though. Taeyong thinks about it for the rest of the afternoon, the entire time that they make dinner together, throughout the inane little rom-com that they watch while cuddled up in bed (before Johnny’s wandering hands become too much of a distraction, of course). Then he wakes up thinking about it _the next day,_ lying restless in bed while he listens to Johnny sing, loudly and badly, in the shower.

Before his love can come out to get dressed, Taeyong slips on his pajamas (they were lost in the fray last night— bottoms tangled up among the sheets, shirt hanging off one of the handles of the dresser) and sneaks out onto the balcony with his phone. His sister Taeyeon will be awake, one of the constants that seems to come from having a three-year-old.

_“Oh. Yongie, hi! You’re never up this early.”_

“Hey, uh…” Taeyong bites his lip, peeking back through the sliding glass doors, to where Johnny is getting dressed. “I have a really quick question. Do you still have your wedding dress?”

_“Mm, yeah. It takes up a lot of space in the closet, but I haven’t exactly figured out what to do with it yet. Wouldn’t getting rid of it or selling it feel strange?”_

He finds himself smiling, and it has nothing to do with Johnny obliviously turning his back and displaying his bare ass in his direction. “Perfect. Noona, I have a _huge_ favor to ask. How do you feel about— altering it?”

 _“Oh my god. Taeyong—”_ Taeyeon clearly covers the phone mic as she pulled away to laugh, but that doesn’t deter him. Laughter is how people meet new ideas, sometimes, until they _see_ them.

“Please? I don’t want to get married in a stupid tux. But— I want to be pretty next to Johnny. He deserves it.”

_“Shit, you two are so cute. Do you have time to come over today? I’ll take your measurements— we’ll see what needs to be done.”_

Taeyong grins, even all by himself. “You’re the best. You’re the fucking _best.”_ It’s a sentiment he’s shared with his sister a million times growing up in order to get his way, but this time he actually feels like he meant it.

//

Taeyeon is a seamstress by trade, which Taeyong suspects is the only reason she agrees. Sure, she’s as sentimental as any happily married woman when it comes to her wedding dress— but she’s never lost her love of making a garment into its best version, in order to best suit the person wearing it.

“A bride should feel like a million bucks on her wedding day,” she’d said through a mouthful of pins, eyes crinkled with mirth. “You’re going to be the most beautiful one in the venue, guaranteed. Oh, nearly forgot— I found the necklace and the tiara that go with it. How ‘pretty’ do you want to go?”

Taeyeon works her magic. A deeper V-neck flatters Taeyong’s wider shoulders, and lacy sleeves soften the hard lines of his biceps. His waist is the key point, and this is where she takes some extra love— lacing in some string to function as a built-in corset.

The skirt is the perfect shape, a full and voluptuous A-line that only adds to the illusion of Taeyong’s waist, but floor length on Taeyeon is several centimeters too short on Taeyong. They don’t have the fabric to make it longer, so Taeyeon makes it _shorter_ instead, knee-length, and adds a poof of white tulle that will peek out from beneath. Heels, she reminds him— he _will_ be wearing heels, right? It would be silly without heels.

Taeyong supposes he’s wearing heels.

//

Taeyong has seen himself in the dress, but never in the dress with the slip with the stockings with the jewelry with the make-up, with the _tiara—_ and so he knows what to expect but doesn’t know, either, and Ten just keeps grinning to himself as he paints Taeyong’s lips.

“Who would have thought? Doyoung— come see.”

“I want to see!” Taeyong whines, but Ten is standing in front of the member like the asshole that he is. They’re in the master bedroom at Johnny’s parents’ home, the makeshift bridal suite, monopolizing the space in front of the vanity; it’s an upstairs room with a perfect view into the garden where the ceremony will be held.

The weather is perfect, all the flowers are at the height of their bloom— it’s like a dream, really, how well everything has worked out. Taeyong has had a lot of bad luck in his life, a lot of setbacks, and he’s been waiting for something to go wrong all morning long, but he’s been pleasantly surprised.

Doyoung peers over Ten’s shoulder and stops, face frozen in a mask of shock, eyes wide; then he breaks into a grin so wide that he instinctively covers his mouth. “Oh my god… _hyung.”_

“I feel like he’s put too much foundation on me. I’m scared that my face will crack if I smile,” Taeyong mumbles with a blush beneath his makeup that he’s sure neither of them can discern. “I don’t look like a clown, do I?” He should have known that he and Ten would have different ideas of “natural makeup”.

“You think I would let you look like a clown?” Ten demands haughtily.

“You look amazing,” Doyoung reveals, his cheeks reddening. This is one of Doyoung’s main functions: besides being Taeyong’s unquestioned best friend since primary school, Doyoung is physically incapable of telling a lie. He trusts Doyoung more than he trusts himself (their friends often joke that it would be Taeyong and Doyoung getting married, if only Doyoung weren’t straight, and neither of them can really deny it). “Seriously, _wow.”_

“One more thing,” Ten adds, opening up a compact of something labeled “setting powder”. Just as he loads up the biggest brush Taeyong has ever _seen,_ the bedroom door opens and Kun slips inside, nearly dropping his phone in utter shock. Ten grins, which is the last thing Taeyong sees before he has to squinch his eyes closed against the brush. “What do you think?”

“Oh— _wow.”_

“That’s what I said,” Doyoung supplies helpfully.

“I didn’t know you could be so _pretty.”_ Kun sounds so shocked that Taeyong pouts, but then Ten finally steps away from the mirror, and Taeyong can’t say anything at all. Ten _has_ done a fantastic job - his skin looks photoshop-flawless, his lips sweet strawberry pink and his round eyes accentuated with black liner and the lightest sheen of glitter across the lids. Nestled into his dark hair is a little silver tiara, adorned with teardrop-shaped diamonds to match the one on the chain around his neck, and Ten has lent him a pair of diamonds studded earrings.

He looks like a princess, he looks like a vision. He blinks, the bride in the mirror blinks. He grins, the bride in the mirror _glows._ “Ten— holy _shit,_ Ten.”

“The officiant just got here,” Kun reports, stepping forward and giving Taeyong’s shoulder a ginger squeeze. “Ten minutes until showtime. Nervous?”

“Not really. Well, maybe a little,” Taeyong amends himself, but before he can stand up and peer out the window at his guests (or twirl shamelessly across the bedroom floor and feel the tulle swish against his stockinged legs), his phone on the vanity table begins to obnoxiously buzz.

INCOMING CALL: Johnny.

Doyoung takes one look and then laughs in utter disbelief. “He can’t even wait ten minutes?! I swear, you two— once you’re married we’ll never get you apart. Johnny will be stuck on you like a barnacle.”

Taeyong scrambles for the phone anyway. Doyoung is one of those miserable-single-types; can’t he see that Taeyong _wants_ to stick together? He wants the safety and stability that he hasn’t had since he came out of the closet and sent waves through his conservative family. He wants early morning coffee and home cooked dinners and cozy, cuddly movie nights on the couch. He can’t wait for the stress of a mortgage, for jointly-filed tax returns, for a minefield of toys and game pieces scattered across their living room, for the puppy that they’ll buy to teach their kids responsibility and then end up taking care of anyway.

Taeyong wants it all, and it feels like he’s been waiting forever for the pieces to fall into place. They’re close, _so_ close. He clicks the _answer_ button with his phone.

“Hello?”

_“Hi, babe. How is everything going on your end? Almost ready?”_

“You’re not supposed to see the bride before the ceremony,” Ten chimes in from behind him, loud enough to be sure Johnny hears. Taeyong rolls his eyes.

 _“Tell Ten that a phone call isn’t the same thing!”_ Johnny relays without having to be told, voice tight with laughter. _“I just wanted to check in on you one more time. I know you get nervous, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t.”_

Taeyong takes a deep breath. The bride in the mirror is still smiling, and he’s sure Taeyeon is right, he’ll remember this vision of himself forever. “I am, but I’m going to be fine. I’m so ready, Johnny.” He hesitates, shooting a look at his three ‘bridesmaids’, none of whom are being shy about their eavesdropping. “I— I look pretty. I can’t wait for you to see me.”

 _“I can’t wait, either. But you always look pretty.”_ Johnny chuckles, suddenly lowering his voice a little: _“I’m headed outside. Quick, come to the window, let me peek—”_

But Taeyong’s phone volume is too loud, and he cackles at the sight of Doyoung and Ten both diving for the window and closing the blinds. “No, no, no! Tell him to fuck off!” Doyoung yells back, and this is enough to set the _five_ of them off. Taeyong laughs until tears prickle his eyes, until he hears Johnny manage words again:

 _“All right, all right, tell them to pull the sticks out of their asses, will you?”_ Johnny’s tone is pure affection, and it melts Taeyong’s insides into jelly— but not quite as much as Johnny finishing out the phone call with, _“See you in a few minutes, wifey. I love you.”_

“Oh my _god,_ you guys—” Ten groans as Taeyong hangs up, sticking out his tongue and pulling a face. “You guys are too much. We really _won’t_ ever hear the end of it.”

“No. You won’t.” Taeyong’s cheeks already hurt from smiling; he’s not even aware that he’s crying until Ten looks at him like he’s just ripped his dress in half and stomped his wedding veil into the floor.

“No! Your makeup! We only have like _five minutes—”_ Ten dives for tissues, rushing to blot the tears before any more can roll down his cheeks and leave their mascara-trails. “Kun, confiscate his phone, will you? And go hunt Johnny down and punch him in the arm for me. Ugh, we were doing _so_ well—”

And they still are, Taeyong thinks through his hiccups. Tears and all, he feels beautiful, and he knows that _this_ feeling is the one he’ll hold onto for years to come. Stress and anxiety and _excitement,_ all building up to something unfathomably beautiful. _We’re still perfect._


End file.
